Cult of Two

Blood Poisoning

"Try the crepes," she urged, much to his surprise, and chose her next words carefully, "I think you'll like them."

"If you insist, my queen," he replied.

"As I was saying, daughter..." Lucifer so rudely interrupted, and she didn't even try to suppress the way her eyes rolled as she turned her attention back to him.

"As you were saying, what?" she asked, "You asked me a question, you received an answer."

"Don't be smart with me, Sabrina," he snapped, "I am the Father of Lies. I know falsehood when I hear it."

"Then you shouldn't be surprised. I'm your daughter-"

Her voice trailed off when she was hit with a sudden wave of nausea. She shook it off and tried to continue speaking, "I'm your-"

She was hit with another wave of nausea, this one much worse than the first. She reached up to her head only to be surprised when a sudden sharp pain shot through her head like a particularly painful headache. She stood up and discovered that the room seemed to be spinning.

"My lady, are you alright?" Caliban asked, voice sounding distant.

"I think... I think I need to lie down."

She had scarcely finished her sentence before she went crashing to the floor. Well, it seemed like the floor had come up to meet her, but she was still coherent enough to know what really happened.

She registered the sound of a chair sliding back and falling to the floor, only vaguely, because there was a ringing sound piercing through the veil of her mind. The sound of which was steadily rising in volume.

The next thing she knew, Caliban was in front of her. She couldn't hear what he was saying, and he looked blurry. The sound kept growing louder and louder, and she covered her ears with her hands and willed it to stop.

Unfortunately, her efforts were in vain, and the pain only got worse. It was ear-splitting, and she was pretty sure it was going to kill her. She felt a scream rip from her vocal cords, but she couldn't hear it.

Everything after that was a blur. There was a weight on top of her body, shielding her. When she tried to open them to see what was happening, all she could see were shattered pieces of crystal and china hitting the floor and turning to dust.

She didn't know how long it went on, but it seemed like forever.

Then suddenly it stopped, and the weight lifted off of her.

"What the heaven did you do to her?"

It was Caliban and he was demanding answers. Answers from Lucifer. Surprisingly, he gave them.

"Nothing," Lucifer replied, seeming unaffected by what had just happened, "I would never harm my darling daughter, despite her disobedience. She's too... valuable."

She sat up, slowly, when she felt her eyes glaze over. Everything was clear, and she could make out a lone voice calling out to her.

"Ambrose?"

Cousin... I don't know if you can hear this, but... more bodies have turned up. You need to see this for yourself...

She shook her head and felt her mind fill with its normal thoughts.

"He was praying," she realized, "To me."

"Naturally," Lucifer said, "You are divine."

"Why did it cause her such pain?" Caliban questioned.

"She's also mortal," Lucifer answered, "A weakness that shall fade with time."

"Fade?" she stood up to look at him, slightly shaky on her feet. If it wasn't for the hand Caliban had placed on her back, she would've fallen back onto the cold, hard ground, "What do you mean 'fade'?"

"Can't you feel it, Sabrina?" he said, standing up to tower over her. Only then did she notice the state of the contents on the table between them. Not a single plate or cup remained intact. The food couldn't even be called food anymore. It was completely liquified. The Plague Kings were cowering in their chairs.

Did she do all of this?

She shrugged off Caliban's touch now that she felt strong enough to stand on her own, and he offered no objections. "Feel what?"

He laughed, and Sabrina swore she could've killed him with her bare hands right then and there. What the heaven was he talking about?

"Hell, of course," he said as he began walking towards her, "It's seeping into your pores, your veins, into your bloodstream."

"You're lying," she countered.

"Am I?" he laughed, and gestured towards the side of her face, "Why don't you see for yourself."

Her brows furrowed in confusion, and she tentatively reached up to touch the side of her face. Her fingers came into contact with something warm and sticky just under her ear. She pulled her hand in front of her face and discovered that her fingers were covered in blood. At least, she thought it was blood.

It was the wrong color. Instead of a bright crimson, it was a deep wine color. It was so dark it was almost purple. It seemed to be thicker than normal blood, too.

She thought about what he had said about Hell invading her bloodstream and realized that he was telling the truth, "Hell is burning away my mortality, isn't it?"

She didn't know how she didn't see it sooner. The moment she first stepped foot on the Shores of Sorrow, her dormant infernal nature came alive.

A part of her was home.

A scary, vicious, blood-thirsty part of her, but a part of her just the same. Six months ago she would've said that no one, regardless of what they had done, deserved to be burned in Hellfire for eternity. Then she discovered little Lucy Anderson huddled in an ice-cream freezer, with her knees tucked up to her chest, and learned that Jimmy Platt had planned on eating her heart.

That was when it all went downhill. The moment she dragged him to Hell and ordered Lilith to burn him like the trash he was. The longer she spent in Hell, the more creative her punishments for the worst of the damned became. Her appetites had increased too, mortal and infernal alike. She didn't even want to think about how much wine she could consume in a single day.

She was still able to show mercy when a good person made a bad deal. That must mean some mortality remained, and she would fight to keep it.

"It's taking longer than I thought," Lucifer admitted, "Especially considering the absence of your soul."

She contemplated the blood on her fingers once more.

"Immortality will look ravishing on you, daughter."

Her eyes snapped up to discover that he was standing right in front of her, staring at the blood she could now feel drying on the side of her face.

"Go. To. Heaven."

His smile fell, and she turned on her heel and headed towards the dining room exit. Footsteps followed after her, and she whirled around, hand poised to strike her father down, only to discover that it wasn't her father. It was Caliban.

Slowly, she lowered her hand, "What are you doing?"

"Inquiring as to where you are going."

"To answer a prayer."

Despite Caliban being the one who asked the question, her answer was directed at her father. It was about time she started making a name for herself amongst the Churches of Darkness, and she sincerely hoped he hadn't heard when she said Ambrose's name when she was on the floor.

"Allow me to accompany you, then. You are in no condition to travel."

She hated to admit it, but he was right. Her rage had propelled her toward the door. Now that she was standing still, she realized that she was still slightly dizzy. Her lack of overall energy also meant she didn't have the strength to argue.

"Okay," she agreed, "Let's go."

"Where to, my lady?"

"Greendale," she said, "I'm going home."